Double Heart
by Sashred
Summary: The Wicked Witch holds Killian Jones in her grasp, but is forced to change her plans when Emma and her family fail to come out of hiding to rescue him.
1. Chapter 1

**Double Heart**

Apparently my angst muse has emerged and demanded this story be written. Below you will find my take on the infamous "sleeping curse" and "true love's kiss" themes, with a decidedly Captain Swan twist. **Warning:** This first chapter contains violence and torture, and while it is initially rated a "T", it's a hard one, and it will eventually become an "M". I've practically finished it though, so I won't leave anyone hanging for long ;) Thanks for reading guys!

Chapter 1

The hours passed like days.

The days passed like hours.

His arms were numb yet again, bound tightly in twine to a ring well above his head. The abrasive rope dug into his flesh mercilessly, tight enough that it didn't even matter he had no left hand beyond his wrist to keep the cords in place. The numbness that had settled in his bones was a small mercy.

The thin shirt that still clung to his shoulders offered no warmth from the dank chill of the cellar, and the meager light that occasionally filtered through the door in the ceiling was the only sign that time was still passing, that the sun still rose and set, that he still lived.

All in all though, Killian supposed he should count his pathetic blessings since that the red-headed witch didn't seem too keen on torture of the physical sort. Or, at least not the kind that involved screws and whips and other sharp implements. He'd endured far worse (he told himself constantly) and survived in far worse conditions. Other than the one time she'd pressed a blade to the inside of his arm and collected his blood in a bowl beneath it, she hadn't even touched him. He wasn't even bound the entire time, allowed to pace the small confines of a wrought-iron and earthen cell every once in a while. And, while she seemed quite keen on learning the Charming family's location, when he refused to answer her inquiries, the worst she'd normally do is leave him in the dark, bound to the wall. He was getting less and less food, and recently she'd stopped bringing him water, but it really wasn't so bad. It wasn't anything at all compared to his own thoughts, the dreams. Himself.

Really, the only difference between this particular stint of imprisonment and the numerous occasions before was that his crew wasn't around to bail him out…that he knew no one was coming for him this time.

_No, no the blasted gods be damned. _He chased the thought from his mind and went back to hanging his weight from the ropes around his arms, testing and wearing on the strength of the metal ring above him. It was embedded in the earth wall at least a few meters up, and it must have been anchored bloody deeply too. He'd been working at it since the first time her magic snaked the ropes around him and through the metal loop. It hurt like hell, his shoulders and nerves screaming from the pressure, but if he could just widen the hole surrounding it enough to yank the iron free from the earth when she comes in the cell…_she would bloody well snap my neck with her magic before I even managed two steps towards her._

He resisted the urge to scream out profanities as the familiar sense of hopelessness threatened to dissuade his increasingly uncomfortable efforts. He _was_ making progress, the ring was definitely looser, and damnit he needed a goal. Something to work towards, something to _fight. _He wasn't going to give up, even if…

The set of heavy wooden doors that led into the cellar suddenly opened above him. What he imagined must have been late afternoon sunlight cast long shadows across the dirt floor. He felt the rush of frozen air as a sharp and breathtakingly agonizing wall of tiny blades. He clamped his jaw down hard to keep his teeth from chattering. _No weakness, you never show weakness unless it can get you something…_

"My, what a chilly day. You should have dressed more warmly, Captain," the witch chided, her deceptively soft and lilting voice grating against his ears. The gaudy green jewel at her throat gleamed dully as her magic lit the lights that dangled from the ceiling in white glass balls. He immediately flinched against their brightness.

"Well, my dear, if you'd let a man have his coat then it wouldn't be an issue," he replied, forcing his lids open in a tight squint.

"Oh, I wouldn't want you to get too comfortable. I daresay you won't be here much longer."

"Growing tired of me already?" he said, slipping into the easy, emotionless banter. "I must be doing something wrong. What a shame. I do hate to leave a woman unsatisfied."

"Oh no, it's not you," she answered, the iron bars before him disappearing with a wave of her hand. "It's Emma, actually. I'm afraid she's disappointed me greatly. Who knew she was just as heartless as the rest of us?" The woman sighed, stopping just in front of him before dragging a red nail from his collar bone to the point where the last two remaining button of his shirt still held the useless garment over his shoulders. _Her_ name brought a surge of emotion that wouldn't have done a damn thing to save him, so he let the witch…Zelena, become his focus. He stepped however closer he could to her, arms straining behind him, and was rewarded when her eyes widened fractionally in surprise.

"Come now, love. Don't be like this." He dropped his voice to a low murmur. "I'm sure you could find some other purpose for me. I really don't know where they're holed up, but I can find them for you. I can be…quite useful."

"Hm, so you keep saying." She watched him, bright green – manically green eyes dead-set on his own, the space between them practically nonexistent. "Though, I'd consider your position more carefully, Captain. I might actually take you up on one of your generous offers before I'm through, and you'd be utterly helpless to stop me." She winked once before moving to the left, walking around him in a circle. "But, sadly I'm not here to flirt with you today, _love_. The time for that has passed. Instead, I want to give you something." She stopped circling. "I realized this…situation hasn't exactly been comfortable for you, and I honestly do regret that. I hate being the bad guy, I really do. So, in the interest of my conscience, I thought I'd let you see your Emma one last time before I cleaned out my cellar."

Killian's chest momentarily constricted, immediately fearing that Emma was here, that Zelena had managed to find her, that she'd been hurt or –

"No need to look so alarmed," she smiled. A cloud of green smoke appeared above her right hand, clearing to reveal a small mirror. The handle and frame were gracefully engraved in the shape of thorned vines and roses. Pale, elegant gold surrounded the reflection of his gaunt, slightly blue and unshaven face.

"I don't have her. Not yet, anyway," she continued. "But, with this mirror, you can see whatever it is that your heart desires. All you have to do is ask, Killian. Ask it to show you Emma, and you will see her. She'll be right in front of you, here and now. Whatever she's doing, wherever she is, the veil of space between you will be lifted. You can die in peace, knowing that she's still safe."

Killian stared back at his hollowed reflection, her words pressing on his brain and heart like a massive anchor, dragging him back into the thoughts he'd tried so hard to banish – the realizations that left his future bleaker than it ever was before, questions about whether it really would be so terrible to die. No one was meant to live as long as he had…hundreds of empty, lonely years. Thousands upon thousands of rum-filled nights, naught but a cold bed and ghosts to ease the hole inside him – it had all nearly driven him insane before. The prospect of facing even one more night alone was nearly enough to shatter him. And yet…

"So, out of the goodness in your admittedly wicked heart, you'd like to ease a dead man's fears. Why?" he growled, all pretense of cooperation dissolving as he struggled to find something beyond the pain to focus on. He didn't want Emma to come for him, he never did. Despite the traitorous thoughts and scenarios that his dreams would bring to life in agonizingly-realistic detail, this was the last place he ever wanted to see her. She was safe with her parents, with her son. If that was all she needed to be happy, truly happy, then so be it. If this really was going to be it, if Zelena was truly done with him, he just wished like hell she'd get on with it already.

"I told you, Killian," the witch answered, smoothing the hair away from his eyes in a disgustingly gentle fashion, "it's a gift. You've caused me less trouble than I ever could have imagined, and I genuinely have enjoyed our conversations, even if you've been less than cooperative. Let me do this for you at least, since we both know I can't let you go back to them. They probably don't even want you back, so it really is better this way. Just ask for her, Killian. Ask to see Emma."

"What makes you think I want to see her at all, anyway?" he said, forcing a bitter laugh from his chest. "They've left me here to die. I'm quite happy never seeing the likes of them again."

Zelena's gaze hardened ever so slightly, but in a blink her eyes were again kind and soft. "I know it must be hard for you, all alone, even after everything you've done for them. I'm sure Emma was at least _fond _of you, and perhaps one day you might have weaseled your way into her heart. You just didn't have enough time. I mean, look at you. A pirate who should have been centuries dead falling for the Savior, of all people. A princess. It's the stuff of…well, fairytales."

"Aye," he admitted, "it certainly was." He felt the corners of his mouth tilt into a small smile, the memory of Emma's lips and passion warming him ever so slightly, before the grin slipped altogether from his face. "But we're not in the Enchanted forest, Witch, and villains don't get happy endings. Or haven't you heard?"

Zelena's spine snapped straight, her eyes widening and expressing turning positively murderous. "Is that so?"

"I'm no fool. I know that once I ask for Emma in that mirror, you'll likely be able to see her as clearly as I, along with where she is. If this was your game all along, then you've lost, Witch. I'd die a thousand times if it meant protecting her for a while longer."

Sharp nails were suddenly digging into the underside of his chin as she gripped his face, her boney fingers possessing a surprising strength that threatened damage.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Dying a martyr for the woman you love. How very heroic, Captain, if not pathetic."

"I'm no hero, love," he ground out. "I'm a selfish bastard, and one with nothing left to lose."

_Crack._

He registered the immediate pain and burst of stars on a black canvas before another _crack _followed, and then another. His ears were ringing, a warm, steady trickle rolled down his chin, and he realized with a heavy sense of dread that the only thing she'd actually hit him with was her hand. It had felt like an iron bar. He could barely take a breath before several of his hairs were parted roughly from his scalp as she yanked his head backwards.

"Alright then, Captain. We'll do this the hard way. That mirror was crafted by the fairies of the Enchanted forest and comes with very specific instructions. It can only show the user something or someone they truly love, and with that declaration you've just spouted for our friend the Savior, you're my ticket to finding her. Either say her name into the glass, or I begin dismembering you."

"So keen to get your pretty clothes bloodied, Witch?" he huffed, the words thick between his swelling lip. "And here I thought you were above all that."

He wasn't immune to the fear spiking through him, the panic and hysteria threatening to consume everything. He felt his body shaking, the sweat dripping down his brow, but there was something stronger behind it all, something shining and bright and good. Instead of chasing Emma's face from his mind as he had so many times before, he brought the best preserved image he possessed to the forefront. Half-lidded eyes, wet lips, halo of mussed golden hair, fists gripping him so damn tight as she caught her breath – the breath he had stolen.

He felt the nerves in his arms suddenly burst back to life in breath-stealing agony as the rope around them tightened further and began hefting his feet off the floor. His was barely on his tip-toes, and then totally suspended, sounds spilling unbidden from him as he struggled for air, clarity, Emma's face slipping away from him.

"I wonder how long it would take for your arms to pop from their sockets," the witch mused, circling his now twitching body again. "Pirates like to gamble, yes? What's your wager? How long?"

It was too hard to speak. It was too hard to breathe. He wanted to scream and scream, call her the absolute worst names imaginable from all the different worlds he'd traveled. He wanted to spit his blood at her and kick out with his feet. He wanted to break the bloody mirror that now hung suspended in the air before him, his warped and twisted reflection the only thing he could see.

As things were, however, he could only grunt out two words.

"Long. Enough."

"For what?" she laughed, a hand patting his leg. "Long enough for Emma to come and save you? I'd wager not. I think we both know that's not going to happen now."

He felt her abnormally strong hands grip around his leg a second before she jerked downward, earning another unbidden cry from his mouth.

"Ooo, I do like that sound. Shall we try the other side? Or perhaps you'd like to make it stop? Just say her name, dear, and the pain disappears. Like magic."

He didn't say a word. He didn't.

"You really are going to make this hard, aren't you?" he heard her sigh, thought excitement was decidedly bleeding into her voice. He willed his mind back to Emma, _Emma, Emma, Emma._

She pulled Rumplestiltskin's dagger from under her cape, waving it before his eyes, beyond the mirror. The blade was so sharp he didn't even really feel it until seconds later, when what initially felt like a feather swiping across his torso blossomed into something unfathomably deep and searing.

"Just say her name, Killian. Say it and all this will be over."

He closed his eyes, and endured.

Throughout it all, however, even as his mind threatened to leave him, he noted that she did little more than spill his blood and tighten the ropes. The witch, for all her acclaimed wickedness, was damn squeamish, hardly amounting to the blokes that lived in the dank dungeons of the world's darkest corners. Despite her threats, he was still intact – or close enough. He couldn't help the absurd laughter that suddenly bubbled in his chest as she dragged the flat side of the blade over his ribs, the metal icy on his now bared skin.

"What's so funny, _love?_" the witch hissed, nicking him. He didn't even flinch, the abrasion hardly more than a scratch compared to the others.

Killian leaned his head back as far as he could, struggling for air so he could speak. "Would I…" _huff _"happen to be your first time?"

Yes, his sanity had surely left him. Her abrupt response was to suddenly release the ropes around his arms. He immediately came crashing to the floor, his numb limbs incapable of doing anything to break his fall. He crumpled on his right side, head banging the packed earthen floor hard. He felt the skin split along his right temple as more stars danced in his vision.

Before he could regain enough sense or breath to do anything about his new position, the earth around him cracked and split into fissures. He did try to kick away from the gnarled roots that began constricting themselves around his body, fighting frantically when they tightened around the fresh, open wounds and his arms, but it was positively useless.

"Now let's get a decent look at you, Captain," Zelena said as she crouched beside him, head tilting to the side in a decidedly reptilian gesture. _To hell with sanity_.

"You and the Crocodile must get on well, being from the same genus and all. Tell me, does your skin really turn green – "

His words were overcome with a fresh gasp as the roots around his body tightened considerably.

"My you certainly are a glutton for punishment," she scowled, wrapping her hand around the underside of his jaw. "And no, to answer your previous question. You are most certainly not my first. Fear not, Captain. I'll have you screaming for Emma by the time we're through, and not in the good way, either."

He would have raised a brow at her familiar phrasing had his throbbing head not protested so strongly.

She released his face, standing to pace beside his prone form. "But I knew from the beginning that physical pain wasn't something you'd respond to very cooperatively. You've suffered much in your years as a fugitive and pirate, and while most men would be blubbering sods by now – you seem just as…_cheeky,_ as ever. What can we do to up the stakes?"

"You could always just let me go. See how that goes for you," he said, his words thicker and harder to phrase than ever. The blood loss was beginning to take its toll, and it didn't help matters that the feeling was returning in agonizing waves back to his arms and hand.

His eyes flicked over to her as she abruptly stopped pacing, her face lighting up in an obvious moment of epiphany.

"Perhaps…" she mumbled, another cloud of green smoke billowing once more from her hand. When it cleared, he saw that she was holding a thin needle, the tip coated in some sort of black substance. Despite himself, Killian couldn't help the way anxiety sped his heartbeat.

"Perhaps…" she said again, turning towards him, "we make a deal. Do you know what this is?"

He focused on the needle in her hand, Princess Aurora's face suddenly flashing before his eyes.

"No bloody clue," he answered as nonchalantly as possible, even though he could feel the trepidation and biting fear begin to bloom in earnest. _Fucking hell, she couldn't possible intend…_

"It's something your friend, my dear sister Regina created. Her very own, specially brewed sleeping curse. One prick with this needle, and all your worries disappear into an eternity of fiery black rooms. No rest, no peace…nothing but solitude and anguish. Sounds thrilling, doesn't it?"

"Perfectly exhilarating," he replied, his body moving against the roots harder, more desperately. "But what the hell does it have to do with me?"

"I imagine you've already put that together, Captain. It's really very simple. Ask the mirror to show you Emma, or face an eternity under Regina's sleeping curse. And, remember, with no true love to kiss and wake you, it really would be an eternity lost in that wretched abyss. It takes more than this one-sided puppy-dog love of yours to break something as powerful as this." She stepped closer to him, and he flinched away – no, bloody _recoiled_.

"See? I think you understand perfectly," she cooed, stroking his hair, letting the tip of the needle drag lightly across his chest. "I won't ask twice, and even if you don't tell me, it would only be a minor inconvenience. I have no qualms about putting you under. It would only delay my plans for a few days at most. So, do what you do best, Killian. Make the right decision for_ you_."

An eternity…forever trapped in some hellish world while his body rotted away. His soul would never know peace. _He _would never know peace. Never again to see his brother, Milah, Bae…Emma. He closed his eyes, blocking out the sneering witch's face and picturing his lovely Swan –

No, not his. She never really was his. Gods know he didn't want to tame her, but it would have been nice to hold her just once. To see her smiling up from beneath him.

Water leaked from the corner of his eyes, every ounce of fight gone and fled from his body.

"Get on with it, then," he said, voice barely managing a whisper. "I am quite curious as to what this terrifying new world holds in store for me. I love a good adventure."

Zelena was suddenly on her knees beside him, the needle poised perfectly above his heart. She was seething. Her eyes were wider than saucers, her white teeth clamped tightly down as they jutted out from her curled lips, veins bulging from her neck.

"You think I won't? Do you think this is a game you foolish, foolish man? I am about to banish you to the most wretched form of half-existence in all the realms, and you still mock me?"

"Not mock," he answered, bracing for the inevitable. Swallowing his last breath of air. "I'm flat out laughing, darling. On the inside, of course."

He felt her body tense, poised for the plunge, when suddenly something loud and distinctly metal slammed down across the cellar doors above them until they nearly caved.

_Emma… _

Zelena gripped his face and turned his head until they were forehead to forehead, the assault on the door pausing as he heard Regina's distinct "Out of my way."

"Oh, I don't think so, Killian," Zelena whispered, hovering right above his lips as her arm tensed again. "No one laughs at me."

With a wicked grin, and a sudden, intense ray of light bursting through the now broken doors, Zelena plunged the needle into his heart.

He was gone long before Emma's insistent hands could fall across his cold skin.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so much to everyone that reviewed and favorited and followed! I'm so glad you guys like the story so far. I've decided that it will be four chapters, and I should have the third up before Friday this week. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Four Days Ago:

Emma was pacing. _Pacing. _It had been just over two days since Hook was separated from Robin's men on a routine patrol (if it was routine to search the forests of Maine for witches and flying monkeys), and the fact that he was still in the wind left her anxious and restless. He would have come back by now, and she just _knew_ something was wrong. She felt something twisting in her gut, and he had proven himself such an invaluable fighter, a clever strategizer, and they just couldn't afford to lose anyone else…

"Emma, honey, relax. I'm sure he's fine. This is Hook, remember?" Mary Margaret tried to soothe. "He'll show up at some point. David and Robin are…"

"Doing everything they can. I know," Emma finished, fingers grasping and toying with her necklace.

A very pregnant Mary Margaret was currently reclining on a somewhat battered couch, though it looked much better now that several blankets had been thrown across it. She, David, and Henry had made a camp of sorts there in a more secluded, albeit dilapidated house, separated from the town center by a good deal of acreage. Emma and Regina had collectively placed a cloaking spell over it so that they were invisible to Zelena and Gold, and it gave them a safe place to go home to at the end of the day. Downtown Storybrooke was all but deserted now, the people having fled the town center to find cover in the woods, underground, anywhere they could manage it. Regina and Belle were currently researching ways to unbind Rumplestiltskin from his dagger, but they'd discovered nothing promising so far. David and Robin led men on those daily patrols in the woods, searching for Zelena just as sure as she was searching for the rest of them. _God, they'd already lost so many already._ Neal, Little John, and two other members of Robin's group, three of the seven dwarves, Archie…and not the mention the countless others of which they had no way to keep track…

"We can't lose anyone else," Emma said, attempting to refocus. _We can't lose him. _"If David and Robin haven't found anything by the time they get back then I'm going out there myself."

"Emma, you can't just go barging out into the woods. You have little to no tracking skills, and I doubt Robin would miss anything. He's almost as good as me." Emma stopped pacing, catching the slight smile on Mary Margaret's face, and willed herself to calm down.

"You're right," she sighed, perching beside her. "I just…I just feel so helpless all the time. We can't find Zelena, we have no idea how to get Rumple's dagger back, Neal is dead, and how _he's_ - "

She trailed off, stuck between not knowing how to finish, and not wanting to finish.

"Since when does it bother you so much that Hook isn't here?" Mary Margaret asked, awkwardly reaching over her stomach to wrap an arm around Emma's shoulders.

"I don't know. I've just gotten used to him, I guess. And he's a good fighter. We need good fighters. And Henry keeps asking about him."

"Are you sure that's all?" she pressed after a moment.

She met her mother's gaze, the question unexpectedly sending her brain into a frenzy. Emma couldn't deny that he was someone she'd come to rely on, someone she trusted. Of course she knew that he would have liked it to be more, that his gaze was often weighted with far more than she was prepared to deal with, _but she wasn't ready, damnit._ Neal had only died two weeks before, Henry was still without his memories and struggling to deal with his new and terrifying reality, and why the hell _should_ she care so much that the pirate hadn't bothered to come back yet?

"I don't…I just don't – "

Emma words died in her throat when Mary Margaret's face suddenly contorted in pain, her arms wrapping around her stomach as she gasped.

"What? What is it, what's happening?" Emma braced her hands on her mother's shoulders, the helpless feeling creeping back and sending her into panic mode.

"I'm okay, I'm okay Emma, really," she panted, eyes closed as she fell into an all too familiar breathing pattern.

"No you're not, you're not. You look like you're in – "

"Labor, I think," her mother finished, nodding furiously as sweat began to bead on her brow. "War or no war, I think this baby is coming. I felt a few smaller contractions earlier, but this one is stronger."

"Oh God. Uh, uh breathe. Just breathe," Emma said, mimicking that familiar _heave heave ho_ pattern. "Can you get to a bed?"

Mary Margaret was silent a minute longer before her face relaxed, her grip loosening around her stomach. "Let's hurry, before another contraction hits," she said, teetering to her feet with Emma's arm securely around her. "And get Whale."

"Yeah, sure," Emma said, anxiety blossoming and growing fast. Too much was happening at once, this was all just too much –

The front door suddenly banged open, revealing a very worried David and a confused Robin.

"Something felt wrong. What's wrong? What's happening?" David was beside Mary Margaret in an instant, his hands cupping her face as she smiled weakly back at him.

"Mary Margaret is having contractions," Emma said in a rush, grateful when David took her place and practically carried Mary Margaret to the downstairs bedroom. Before following after them, she caught Robin's eye.

"He could tell just something was off just by feeling something?" she asked. "Really?"

"It does seem quite remarkable," Robin replied, "but not unlike your truth detecting talent that Killian told me about."

Emma was quiet for a long moment before she worked up the courage to ask.

"Anything?" she finally managed, daring to hope. When his eyes lowered to the floor, the anxious expression on his face fading into something softer, pitying, she gathered that it likely wasn't good news.

"Perhaps..."

Emma felt her gut clench. "Perhaps what? What did you find?" she asked, jumping slightly when Mary Margaret let loose another cry of pain.

"I asked Regina to brew up something that might reveal a trail, since I couldn't find anything physical. It worked, to an extent. We picked up what looked like a game trail in some brush, but after looking closer we realized it was more like something had been dragged through it. The trail ended at the stream that runs under the bridge, but we found this tacked to one of the posts." He handed her what looked like a letter, water damaged from the rains the night before. "We were hurrying back here to show everyone when David felt that something was amiss with Lady Snow."

Emma squinted at the note, her eyes just barely able to make out the faded, brownish lettering.

_Savior,_

_ Thank you for the lovely gift. I can see why you've been so keen to keep this pretty one around, even if he tongue is a bit crude. I feel so selfish keeping him all for myself like this though, so if you wish for another turn with the pirate, don't be afraid to drop by. I'm sure it won't be too difficult for my dear sister to trace this letter back to my home. Until then, I'll give him all your best wishes – personally._

_ Ever your friend,_

_ Zelena of Oz_

Emma read through the letter three more times before it finally sank in, before her fist bunched it into a ball and she was forced to focus on not screaming out in frustration, rage.

"Get Regina," was all she managed to grind out before David called from the bedroom.

"Emma, we need you!"

She closed her eyes and forced herself to inhale, exhale, much in the same manner as before. "But get Whale first."

Robin nodded, patting her once on the arm. "I'll be quick."

She offered a half-smile in gratitude, but it didn't reach her eyes. Once Robin was back out the door, she stuffed the letter in her pocket. She froze when she heard a squeak on the stairs.

"Mom? What's going on? Is Mary Margaret okay?" Henry asked from above her, starting down them when her eyes met his.

"She's fine Henry," Emma quickly reassured, forcing the conflict away. "But the baby is coming and we need everyone to help out, okay?" Her voice didn't crack, _it didn't._ "Can you grab some towels and a bowl of cool water?"

"Yeah, sure. Anything," he said, barreling past her into the kitchen. She could hear the excitement in his voice, a hint of panic.

"Knock on the door before you come in, okay?" she called out behind her. The poor kid had already been scarred enough for a lifetime.

"Okay!" he yelled back, and Emma tried her damndest to push everything back, back out of her head. Her parents needed her, _her sibling needed her. _Hook…

No, not now. The choice was terrifyingly cut and dry, even if it practically killed her. Fists clenched and breath shallow, Emma walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Mary Margaret spent the next twenty-six hours in labor.

It had been a hard delivery, especially without the convenience of the hospital, but Whale had pulled her through well enough. They had already gathered most of the supplies that they needed at the house, and everything went as smoothly as possible under the circumstances. Emma kept Henry close at her side as Robin's men tightened the perimeter around them and tensions rose. No one was to be allowed near the old house and her concealment spell, not even the townspeople. They were more vulnerable than ever now, and would continue to be until Mary Margaret and Emma's new baby brother Leopold were stable enough to travel. Two more weeks at the least.

David never left her and the baby's side, and with Robin maintaining the defenses around them, there hadn't been much opportunity to discuss any kind of rescue plan for Hook. Regina had said that she would be there within the next day, but she had more important things to attend to first. It had been the hardest thing in the world for Emma not to punch Robin then and there once he delivered her message, and he'd left quickly after she told him as much.

Emma hadn't slept once since the baby's delivery, Leo's cries often jolting her from moments of silence, worry and fear keeping any kind of rest at bay. She maintained her distance from Mary Margaret's room, popping in only once and a while to catch a glimpse of him, healthy and strong and content in her parents' arms. Henry was in there constantly, fawning over his new…uncle, and it hurt Emma's head to think about it anymore than that.

When Regina finally did show up, hours after the birth, Emma was so anxious that she practically knocked her over when she came through the door.

"What took so long?" she demanded, her frustration not even veiled a little.

"Watch it, princess. I'm not going to apologize for making sure that Roland was safe before I left."

"Did Robin tell you what the letter said?" she asked, pushing forward. _They've already lost so much time…practically four days…_

"Yes," Regina replied, removing her gray suit jacket. After pushing black sleeves up her arms, she began clearing a place on the small kitchen table. "I had just enough ingredients left in my stores to work up a locater spell. Hand me the letter. We're going to find that witch and have her strung up on my clock tower before the night's over."

"Now you're talking," Emma said, pushing up her own sweater sleeves as well. She fished the letter out of her pocket (she hadn't let it leave her person since Robin first gave it to her) and placed it in Regina's outstretched hand.

Regina pulled what looked like a stick of white chalk out of her bag, and drew a circle on the table's rough wood. "This is a stick of compressed oak ash. It represents the forest around us." Emma watched as she removed vials of various liquids, and flinched when an unmistakably rotten smell hit her nose.

"Oh, what_ is_ that?" Henry asked from behind them, and Emma immediately straightened to block his view.

"Nothing – "

"A locator spell," Regina spoke over her. "And that's all you need to know for now."

"Regina – " Emma started, shooting a look.

"It's okay, Mom. I'm not freaked out by it. Promise," Henry said, squeezing between them. "Are you trying to find Killian?"

"The Wicked Witch," Regina answered, now mixing various items together with a mortar and pestle.

"And Killian," Emma added, shooting another glare. "We think she might have him."

"Yes, and we can only hope that he hasn't spilled his guts and told her where to find us all. We'll be lucky if we can get to her first," Regina said, adding some sort of crushed, dry leaf to her mixture.

"Don't worry. Killian won't tell her where we are," Henry said, the conviction in his voice startling Emma. She looked at him, meeting his intense gaze. Emma hadn't even entertained the thought that Hook would betray them. She just knew from something in her gut, similar to how she knew when people lied, that he would die before giving them away. _Before giving her away._

And that was part of what was scaring her so much. As she watched Henry's face, the serious set to his brow that was much too old for his youthful features, she realized that Henry knew it to. He had seemed closer to Hook after that night they'd spent away from the showdown in town, just before things had gotten really bad. She had noticed Henry shadowing him, heard them both laughing together at odd moments. _God, how had she missed it?_ Hook had slowly but surely worked his way into not just her life, but Henry's too.

"No," Emma finally said, dropping an arm across his shoulders and tugging him against her. "He wouldn't do that to us."

Regina paused to watch them for a moment, her expression softening slightly. "Maybe not," she admitted quietly. "But time is still of the essence. Give me your hand, Emma."

"Stand back, Henry," Emma said, giving him a small smile before pushing him gently away. When he was a decent distance behind them, she grasped Regina's sweating palm, and immediately felt a rush of white-hot energy shoot up her arm and channel throughout the rest of her body. Regina's foul-smelling mixture had been spread out around the inside of the white circle, and the letter placed on top of it so that the liquid bled through the paper.

"Put your other hand on the letter," Regina said, and Emma positioned her left hand next to hers, shivering as the circle completed. "Just let the magic show you. Don't resist it," she instructed. "Let the picture paint itself in your mind."

Emma did her best to relax, the energy sparking and pounding in her veins like a second heartbeat. Colors began to spread through the darkness in her closed eyes and swirled to make shapes, lights, until finally there was a face. She nearly lost it when she found herself suddenly staring into blue irises, and Regina's grip on her hand tightened.

"Focus, Emma," she commanded, and Emma struggled to breathe. Beyond the blue she saw red and black, pale skin, a white flash of teeth as lips curled back in a grimace.

"Oh God, I can't – " Emma stuttered, Hook's battered face and bound body suddenly filling her mind, her senses. She couldn't see anything but him, a dirt wall, and tungsten bulbs. He could be anywhere, _anywhere…_

"Emma, pull back," she vaguely heard Regina shout. "Pull your eyes back, broader. Don't worry about him, we need to know the location. _The location, Emma!"_

She tried, God she did. Emma let herself drift backwards, away from him, until the full outline of the cellar made itself known. She was going up a set of stairs now, above him, onto level ground…

"No!" she shouted, panicked as Hook began to fall out of her vision and the cellar doors closed. "I can't leave him, not now. Please!"

It was at that moment she felt something hard and utterly unyielding circle her consciousness, forcing her eyes off the hole in the ground and around to the quiet clearing around her, holly bushes dotting the tree line's edge. She knew this place…

The vision was suddenly knocked away from her, her eyes plunging into darkness again.

"Emma!"

"Mom!"

The two different voices stirred her back into awareness, and as the electricity in her body abated, her sensations returning, she realized quite abruptly that she was in someone's arms, the hard floor directly under back.

"I'm okay," she managed to say, opening her eyes. David stared back at her, panic and fear easily visible in his gaze. She realized that he was the one holding her, and Henry was crouched right beside him. She struggled to sit up.

"Easy, take it easy," David said, arm around her back. "What the hell did you do to her, Regina?" he demanded, and she saw for the first time that Regina was on the floor too, hand cradling her head.

Robin and two of his men came bursting through the front door then, Robin immediately going to Regina's side and squatting beside her. "What happened?" he asked, arm circling her. Emma's chest constricted painfully, that God-awful image of Hook flashing briefly before her eyes again.

"What the hell, Regina!?" she shouted. "What the fuck just happened? Why did I see…why did I see…" she made herself take a breath, easing the tightness in her throat. "Why did I just see him? I thought the spell was for the Wicked Witch?"

Robin helped Regina stand, and Emma brushed off David's offered arm and stood on her own. "Tell me! Is that where she is? Is that where he is? Was that even a locator spell?"

"Yes, it was," Regina snapped back. "In order to do a proper locator spell you need some of the person's blood. The note was written in blood, Robin told me as much, so I assumed it was either Zelena's or Hook's. I couldn't know for sure which, and it didn't matter either way as long as both of us did the spell."

"That's why you had me do it with you?" Emma asked, struggling to keep up. Her head felt foggy and thick, awful, terrible thoughts pervading every space.

"Yes. The other necessary element is that the person conducting the spell be connected in some way. Zelena is my sister, Hook is…well, your boyfriend apparently, and that was all it needed. It worked, so I don't see a problem."

"The problem," David interjected, "is that Emma ended up screaming on the floor because of what you did to her, and she didn't have the opportunity to prepare – "

"If I told her beforehand that the note was written in what was likely Hook's blood, she wouldn't have been able to focus. As things are, she barely managed to pull it off, and only after I intervened."

"You mean that was your magic pulling me back?" Emma asked.

"Of course it was. Now, can we stop bickering about this and put together a real plan to confront her? This is the best lead we've had in weeks, and I'm willing to save the pirate if it means getting my hands on Zelena again."

"She's right," Emma nodded, the anger fading away and an extreme sense of urgency replacing it. "This is our chance, and we have to save Hook."

"Emma, this is probably just a trap," David said. "Our greatest advantage now is time and secrecy. We need to wait and find more of the residents before we come out into the open. She has Gold's power on top her own, too. We wouldn't stand a chance, not now."

"We can't just leave him, David! You didn't see what I did. She's –" Emma stopped herself, gaze falling on Henry. "He's hurt."

"And I wouldn't count on her having Gold's power for much longer," Regina said, stepping away from Robin. "One of the other reasons I was so late is that Belle thinks she found a way to separate him from his dagger, at least temporarily. Long enough for me to kill Zelena."

"Seriously?" Emma said. "You found a way?"

"Wait a minute, here. Even if you did, what is it going to take?" David asked, voice edged with frustration. "Something like that can't be easy, and the price would be – "

"Dark, yes," Regina finished David's sentence, eyes momentarily flicking to Robin. "It requires the blood of an innocent, an infant. The firstborn son of true love."

Emma felt her eyes widen, the pieces falling into place. "That's why Zelena – "

"Exactly. She probably knows of the spell and wanted to prevent us from having the necessary ingredient, Snow and David's baby. He's the key."

"No."

Emma could feel David shaking beside her, the fierce protectiveness rolling off him in waves. He looked just about ready to kill Regina with his bare hands, and Emma couldn't make herself move to stop him.

"You took our daughter away from us. You made us live without her, made her suffer. There is no Goddamned way in hell you're laying one finger on our son!" he shouted, advancing towards her.

Robin positioned himself just in front of Regina, palms towards his chest. "Easy, David. No one is talking about taking your son…"

"Not what it sounds like to me," Emma said evenly, standing just behind David.

"I just need a drop of his blood, that's all," Regina explained. "We're not talking about killing him. Just get Whale to draw some blood. That's it."

"You. Will. Not. Touch. My. Son – "

"David." A soft voice spoke from the doorway of the bedroom. Mary Margaret stood there, leaning heavily against the frame. Despite her disheveled and exhausted state, her eyes held in them a stunning awareness and clarity. "How many more people have to die? How many more have to suffer?"

"Snow…he's not even a day old. We can't – "

"Emma wasn't even an hour old when we sent her to this horrible world, all alone. I hadn't even had time to feed her yet – " her voice trailed off, and Emma felt a burn in her eyes. "It's a small price compared to what we've paid in the past, and we owe it to Emma now, and to the people of our world. Whale is coming by in a bit to check in, anyway. We can just have him take a sample of blood then. That's all you need, right Regina?"

"Yes, yes that's all." Regina took a breath, and Robin eased his stance. "I'll go get Belle, then. She can confirm all of what I said, too. She is the one that found the spell."

"Fine," Snow nodded curtly, her gaze steely. "Just hurry."

Regina gathered her things, the ingredients, and her suit jacket before looking back at Emma. "For what it's worth," she said, "I am sorry that you…that…" she trailed off, before shaking her head. "I'll do whatever I can."

Emma nodded, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Care for an escort, your Majesty?" Robin asked, following her towards the door. He opened it for her, and Emma looked away as they walked out together.

"Okay," she sighed, pressing a thumb and forefinger to her eyes as the dark images flashed in them again. "Okay. Looks like we have a rescue to plan."


	3. Chapter 3

_I am so excited about this chapter and everything that comes after this. Last one was a bit of a filler, but it had some important stuff in it. This one, however, has so far been my favorite to write. I'm still finishing up the last part, but there will definitely be five chapters now instead of just four. Anywho, hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thanks so much to all my new followers and reviewers!_

Chapter 3

The clearing that Emma had seen in her vision was familiar enough. David and Robin knew it even better than she, and once Regina returned with Belle, it took only a few hours before they had their strategies mapped out, signals established, and pieces of the spell in place. Whale extracted the vial of precious blood, and soon they had enough people gathered to put up a decent distraction and provide cover for the rescue part.

David and Robin were assigning positions to the gathered mob, and in the midst of the controlled chaos Emma's eye caught Regina's. The woman gestured towards the back of the house with a pointed look, and Emma followed her to the kitchen. The noise wasn't much muted in there, but the two were alone.

"What is it?" Emma asked, crossing her arms. She was impatient as ever, eager to get back out there to speed things along. It bothered her, too, that Regina obviously hadn't felt the others should hear what she was about to say.

"I told you about how we needed the baby's blood, right?"

"Yes. You said it was the ingredient necessary to complete the spell, and we got it. What's the issue?" Emma pressed, hands moving to her hips. She already didn't like where this was headed.

"It is, true enough, but what we are about to unleash is powerful and dark. David wasn't wrong to question what the price would be with something like this. It's steep. Very, very steep."

"I thought the price was Leo's blood?" she said. "The blood of 'true love's first born son' or whatever."

"Not exactly. It's more an ingredient than price, to be perfectly honest. I figured that would be hard enough for Charming to swallow, and I wasn't about to push it."

"Do you know what the price is, then?" Emma asked, trepidation sparking. "You plan on telling me?"

Regina took a breath, and tugged Emma closer. "You need to understand what we're doing, here. This isn't just some spell. We're summoning, however temporarily, the original creator of the Dark One's dagger. Magic can't bring him to us directly, but with this sort of blood magic we can come pretty damn close. We're summoning his shadow, and the shadow is going to want something in return."

Emma's mouth went cotton-dry. "Who is the original creator of the Dark One's dagger?"

"The Dark Fairy, of course. And his shadow, it's going to be powerful. We can only control it as far as commanding it to separate the magical pull the dagger has on Rumplestiltskin. That's as far as the bounds of the spell go."

"Shadow…like the shadow in Neverland?"

"Exactly. Belle found a great deal of information in one of Gold's book about them. Only creatures with the highest magical abilities can create a shadow-self without killing themselves in the process. The Dark Fairy was the first to ever manage it."

"And we have to use his shadow? We have to call something like that here? How could that possibly end well?" Emma asked, struggling to keep her voice under control.

"It won't. At least not for us."

"Regina – "

"The price, Emma, is our magic. Something as dark and powerful as that could only be tempted with something it wants, covets. The power of those who are strong enough to summon it."

Emma was quite for a moment, the final point of Regina's speech sinking in and leaving her insides cold. "So, once Hook is safe, you need me to go cast the spell while you distract Zelena."

"Belle could never cast it on her own, she doesn't have a magical bone in her body."

"And then once I do, it will free Gold from the dagger, before taking my magic and your magic," she continued, the pieces falling into place.

"Yes. And it could very well kill us both."

"How can it just…just take our magic out of us?" Emma asked, brain racing, heart thudding hard.

"Painfully. It absorbs the energy around us, in us. Your heart could stop before it does. The book only mentions a few of the people who have attempted this ritual, and most were killed. Only the stronger ones even have a chance of surviving it."

"But, it's possible?"

"It is. And, theoretically, if we survive, our magic would slowly begin to return to us, though likely never as it was before."

Emma mulled it over in her mind, the clamor behind her in the living room growing in volume. They only had a moment more before it all began. "Will we survive it? I can't…we can't just leave Henry alone. I know my parents would take care of him, but he's already lost Neal –"

"I believe that you will," Regina said after a measured moment. "And I have a chance. That's as far as I'm willing to bet. But the chance of death is there, Emma. Are you prepared to do this?"

"Are you?"

"I'd go to hell and back to kill the bitch," she said vehemently. "But I would do more than that to survive, if only for Henry's sake. I'm prepared. And, if I do die, then it would at least be to protect Henry…" she paused, glancing towards the front of the house, "…and the rest of these cretins, I suppose. Even if I fail to kill Zelena, Gold will finish her off for certain."

There really wasn't much more for Emma to consider. As much as she wanted to live for Henry, she'd never really wanted the Savior's power. She didn't want the magic. It was surprisingly easy to make her decision. Holding Regina's gaze, she gave a curt nod. "Let's do it then. But nothing we said goes beyond this room. I don't want them worrying about anything else but surviving. Deal?"

"Deal. Now, once Zelena appears, retreat to the woods and find Belle. She'll show you how to summon it. I've already given her the necessary ingredients and she knows how to read the incantation. The rest is up to you."

"Fine. Just, make sure you stay alive long enough for me to cast it," she said, looking the shorter woman up and down. Emma didn't doubt her abilities, but the thought that this might be the last time Henry saw either of them was weighing heavily on her. It wasn't fucking fair, none of it, and for a brief moment she pictured herself taking Henry and running the hell away from Storybrooke, Maine, the damn eastern seaboard. Hook's face, though, David and Mary Margaret, _her brother…_they bolted her down, tied her to the outcome of the battle. She was going to do her damndest to save _everyone, _and that's just the way things were.

"Don't worry about me," Regina answered, walking passed her and out of the kitchen. "Stay focused, and…" she stopped once, and Emma felt her nails grip her shoulder through her sweater, "Good luck."

Regina convinced Robin stay behind to protect Mary Margaret and the baby with Henry, Granny, and Whale. He'd argued at first, but relented after a short, whispered conversation. Emma imagined it likely went along the lines of her asking him to protect Henry, and she wasn't about to argue. Everyone was gathered, waiting, and she went to stand beside David.

"I know I've been the nay-sayer," he said to her, restless babble keeping them from being directly overheard, "but I want to save Hook too. We'll get him back, I promise."

"I know," she nodded, letting him wrap an arm around the back of her head as he pulled her close. It was brief, but enough for that weight to nearly double.

"Now," he started once he let go, "Henry." David placed a hand on his shoulder, squatting until he was eye-level. "I'm counting on you to protect everyone. Robin, Whale, and Granny will be right here with you, but they're really just back-up. "Watch out for Mary Margaret and the baby."

"Nothing will get passed me. I won't let you down," he promised.

Emma smiled at her son, her pride mirrored in Regina's face as well.

David ruffled his hair, and stood back for a handshake. Henry returned it, gripping his hand tightly.

"See ya soon, kid," Emma said next, pulling him in for a long, tight hug. "Take care of them, and take care of yourself. Love you."

She felt him nod before mumbling "I love you too," back, and after holding on for a moment longer, he let go.

Regina beamed at him when he turned to her, and hugged him tightly as well. "Once all this is over, Henry, your memories should come back. We can have a nice long talk, then. Okay?"

"I'd like that," he answered, before melting back towards where Mary Margaret stood, wrapping a supportive arm around her.

"Alright, let's go," Emma said, and the group around her quieted immediately. With a turn of the handle, they all filed out of the front door, Robin's men, Ruby, and Belle immediately disappearing into the woods around them, while David and Regina stayed close Emma. Everyone was as armed as possible, David with his gun and sword, Emma's own semi-automatic already drawn, and Regina hands clenching and unclenching as magic gathered around her.

"Are you ready for this?" Emma asked her, the house now long behind them as David trudged ahead of them.

"Oh I think so. It's time all this ended."

"Good luck to you too, by the way," she mumbled. "Don't die."

"Likewise, Ms. Swan. And as I said, don't worry about me. I'm not leaving him again," she replied, and the words were poignant in their sincerity.

Emma remembered them as the clearing came into sight.

The setting sun cast deep, seemingly impenetrable shadows across the field. A small house was just barely visible on the horizon, similar to the one that Zelena had occupied before. The cellar doors were a good hundred yards away from the building, closer to the edge of the woods. Emma took a shaky breath as they stood gathered under cover. She wasn't going to leave Henry either, not if she could help it, and the same went for the man that was hopefully still waiting for her.

_But what if he isn't there? What if she moved him? What if this is all for nothing and he's already dead…_

"Emma," David said, voice penetrating through her thoughts. "Don't start losing hope now. We're not leaving until we find him."

She nodded, gripping her gun tighter. After taking a moment to survey the clearing, they ran out together from the tree line and into the open space. Emma kept her eyes trained to the sky, and Regina kept her's on the ground around them, watching for signs of magic, Zelena, and collectively they watched David's back as he slammed his boot, and then his sword against the chains that snaked around the doors. After the second swing, he fell back from the force of his sword reverberating against the metal.

"I hit it with all I had," he panted, "but I didn't even nick it. Regina…"

"Out of my way," she barked, and Emma and David both cleared a path. She swept the currents of magic around her into an impossibly bright ball of light, and thrust it towards the doors.

They burst open with deafening force.

Emma centered her gun in front of her, eyes on the eerily familiar stairs leading down into that hellish pit. Her chest suddenly seized in a harsh, stinging cramp, taking her breath away. She was forced to pause a moment, hand over her pounding heart.

"You okay?" David asked, watching her carefully. She nodded, trying to shake the sensation off.

"Yeah, yeah let's go."

David was first to the entrance, still favoring his sword over the gun as he disappeared down. Emma followed close, putting both hands back on her gun. Her insides were a squirming, painful, horrid mess, and she tried to brace herself, shut her emotions off, senses searching for threats and odd sounds and totally not focused on anything they might find inside –

David froze on the bottom step, blocking Emma's view of the underground room.

The sting in her chest seemed to explode in that moment, and it felt like her heart was bursting, ripping, burning. She couldn't breathe, didn't want to breathe. David was quickly turning back around, and his eyes were glassy and sad and angry and _no no no –_

"Emma…please just listen to me." His voice was infuriatingly calm, and Emma's body began to shake. "You don't want to see this. Go back up, please. Please," David begged, hands grasping her arms, imploring. Begging that she let him protect her, that she at least let him save her from this, from seeing what the room held.

Everything she ever was, all the walls, the perpetual distrust, the fear, the scars and still-gaping wounds…all the smiles, the jokes, the scar on the palm of her hand and the memories, the unsaid words, the would-be touches and caresses, her _hope…_

"No," she whispered, the wicked witch forgotten, her gun hastily shoved back into its holster. "No, NO!" she screamed, throat ripping with her heart. David flinched back, and she took his surprise as an advantage and _shoved _passed him, nearly falling on her face as her feet tangled on the stairs. She ended up stumbling to her knees, the dirt cold and hard under her hands as she caught herself, hair blocking her vision as she reached a hand forwards to brace her weight and –

Her palm closed around a leg, fingers slipping on slick leather. She moved her hair back with her other hand, heart stopping altogether when she saw him.

"Emma…" David was beside her, tugging her back. She tore herself out of his grasp.

"Hook…Hook!" she yelled, scrambling until she knelt by his head, blanched skin made even whiter against his dark hair, from his head to his bare chest, plastered down and crusted with sweat and dirt and blood.

"Can you hear me? Hook?!" she shouted again, nearly jumping out of her skin when her hands touched his face, finding his skin unbearably cold and stiff. She choked back a sob, the wretched sound catching in her throat and burning, _burning. _She put her fingers to the pulse point in his neck, and when she couldn't sense any movement underneath her fingertips, she laid her cheek to his chest, uncaring that his blood from the gashes and wounds – _too many, too many, too many _– stuck to her skin and hair. She listened for a breath, a heartbeat, the rumbling sound of his laugh as he made some stupid joke about her touching him and holding him and –

"Please!" she cried, her face now wet with more than just his blood. She lifted herself off of him, hands pressing together over his heart as she braced herself above, before she began frantically pumping up and down. "David, call Whale, get him over here now," she said, counting out thirty compressions before closing her lips over his cold ones and blowing air into his lungs. She was now utterly and completely focused on the CPR, emotions gone, replaced with an empty buzz. "Call him now!" She was just trying to save a life. _He was a good fighter…_

"Emma, he's gone," David said quietly, though he didn't try to touch her again. She kept up the CPR regardless, her body now nothing more than a working machine, her heart and screaming soul locked tight in box and put away, far away. She pressed her lips against his unbearably cold ones more times than she cared to count, part of her withering away and shattering every time his lungs failed to do their job.

"It's too late," came Regina's voice a moment later, rational and clear. Emma could just barely hear it over the sound of her own labored breathing. "Stop this. It won't do any good to call Whale, and you're only weakening yourself. His heart has stopped, Emma. Emma!"

"What?" she gasped, arms stilling.

"Zelena is still out there, and we have a job to do. We can't…you can't let this stop you. It's what she wants."

Emma latched onto Regina's detached tone, her separateness, the fact that they still had things to worry about and do. She finally stopped her efforts completely, removing her slowly chilling hands from the cold, torn body beneath her. That's all he was now.

"You're right," she said, and David tensed beside her. "He's dead. Hook is dead."

She looked at his body now, really looked at it. His bare torso was covered in gashes that varied in depth and length, arms bruised and raw from what must have been ropes that held him. He was lying prone on the ground, arms and legs slightly spread, as if something had been holding him down. She noticed for the first time that the earth was dug-up around him, fissures and small mounds of dirt scattered about. It was as if the ground was already trying to swallow its due.

"Yeah. We have a job to do," she repeated Regina's words, rubbing the back of her hand along her lips. She stood, and felt as helpless as before when she'd seen him in her vision. He was done waiting, done looking after Henry, done making her laugh. He was done. Gone. She couldn't save him. They were too late. She was too late.

Emma was still rubbing her lips, harder, more fervently, and suddenly it was the only thing she could do.

_God it was wrong. It was wrong wrong wrong. His lips were soft and warm, gentle and mocking. Not cold and hard, not dead and silent, they were wrong – _

"It's wrong, it's all wrong," she said from behind her furiously moving hand, trying to wipe the cold from her mouth, the death, _the wrongness…_

"Emma, stop. Emma – "

"No!" she sidestepped David again, and her box broke. Her last thread of sanity snapped. "Don't you know how wrong it is? You're not supposed to be like this, you idiot!" she screamed, sinking back beside Hook on the ground, no longer rational, no longer caring that some witch wanted them all dead. Her right hand fisted in his damp hair and jerked his head up, holding his face – _so cold, so cold _– in her other hand.

"I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?" She shook him. "I'm sorry I pushed you away, and I'm sorry I almost married a fucking flying monkey. I'm sorry I forgot about you for a whole year, and I'm sorry it really was only a one-time thing. I didn't want it to be, but I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready…and Henry was missing and…"

Her sobs overtook what voice she had left, and she was holding his face against hers. "I'm sorry I couldn't…I 'm so sorry I was too late. Everything is too late. I'm worthless and stupid and what is the _point _of me if I can't even save you? I'm sorry…I'm sorry I wasn't _good enough_."

Her last words were whispered, meant only for him. She was rocking now, his head and shoulders in her lap, her arms completely wrapped around him as she pet his hair, ran her fingers along his rough cheeks, wiped the blood and tears and dirt from his skin. "Please, please don't leave me," she whispered against his ear, her thumb running along his lips. She tried to warm them, because they just couldn't be that cold…so _wrong_, and she closed her eyes. She could warm them so much faster with her own.

She bent her head, determined to replace the coldness with warmth. She wouldn't remember his lips like that, she couldn't.

Emma pressed her mouth against his insistently, demanding. There was nothing gentle about it, nothing soft. She tasted blood and salt, but _he_ was still there beneath it all, his taste. She'd missed it before when she had been mindlessly trying to revive him. God, she remembered their kiss in Neverland, even remembered the one he haphazardly inflicted upon her in New York. They were hers, _these lips were hers, damnit. _She couldn't stand that they wouldn't mold against her in that slick and pliant way, that warm way, his way. She just wanted him to do it again, she just wanted him to fucking breathe and hold her back and _kiss _her like his heavy gaze and parted lips had always promised.

But it was all taking too long, and he didn't. It wasn't until she had just begun to withdraw, her lips barely touching his, hope sinking like a fucking anchor in her stomach,when Emma felt her skin prickle. That was her only warning before something abruptly sparked inside her chest, before something washed over her and she began to burn, her lips began to blaze…

"That's impossible," she heard David's voice behind her, but it was a meaningless sound compared to the pounding in her chest, as if her heart was beating twice as fast and twice as loud. Breath left her open mouth quite forcefully, something sucking it out, and her lips were hot, pulsing, and moving. A hesitant wetness prodded the top of her bottom lip, before _his_ lips were closing around it, tugging, encasing, cold fingers inching up her neck, warming with every beat of her double heart –

_His heart._

Emma broke away, but only pulling back far enough so that her eyes could meet blue ones, black lashes fluttering blearily, flushed skin crinkling around them.

"Emma?" his voice rumbled, thick and scratchy, his nose just barely brushing hers.

She was afraid to move, afraid that he could be gone again if she blinked, if she stopped touching him. "Is this real?" she whispered, waiting with bated breath, just _waiting _for his skin to turn cold again and his eyes to close.

"You tell me, love," he answered, his fingers sliding through her hair now, his brow still pinched with confusion. She felt his other arm brush her side, before he circled her back with it, wincing at the movement.

"It was a fucking sleeping potion," Regina said from behind them, incredulous. "She must have used my sleeping potion. Our memories…"

"They're back…I can remember," David mumbled, voice distant. "The witch, she was there with us in the forest…" David was suddenly crouching across from her, his voice urgent. "Emma, help me get him to his feet. We're not safe out in the open like this."

"It is real," Emma breathed, gripping him tighter, ignoring David, unconcerned with the fact that she just broke another curse. "You're alive. You came back."

"I did, didn't I?" he said, hand moving to cup her cheek, eyes soft and still a bit bewildered. After a moment they sharpened, before he gingerly tilted his forehead against hers. "And you are the furthest thing from worthless possible. You're brilliant and amazing. How many times do I have to say it before you believe me?"

Something between a sob and a laugh escaped her, and she smiled as he brushed his lips against hers once, soft and _warm_.

"Emma," David said again, voice more insistent. "Hook's still injured and we have a ways to go before we're safe."

Killian tensed under her, his hand suddenly gripping her hair just shy of too hard. "That witch," he suddenly growled, eyes narrowed. "Where the hell is she? She was here just before you came."

"She's out there somewhere," Regina answered. "Though I'm surprised she wasn't waiting for us when we got here."

"She thought you weren't coming," Hook replied stiffly, grimacing and biting down on his lip hard as Emma and David finally brought him to his feet. "She'd given up on that and was trying to use some sort of enchanted mirror to find you."

Emma's stomach lurched, the thought that he had probably thought the same thing stabbing at her insides. "What kind of mirror?" she asked, deciding that this definitely wasn't the time or place to delve into that guilt trip.

She felt him tense beside her. "Does it matter? Now, if you don't mind, I'd rather like to get the hell out of here."

"Is the coast clear, Regina?" David asked as they walked forward. Regina climbed the stairs ahead of them and emerged onto the field.

"Yes, for now."

Killian stepped ahead and carefully mounted the stairs, and Emma couldn't help but cringe as his wounds trickled and stretched. He had to be in agony. She kept a careful hand on his back, sliding herself back under his arm as soon as she came up beside him.

"Don't look so worried, Swan. I've had worse than this. I can stand on my own two feet."

He wasn't looking at her, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance. His skin had gone from flushed with renewed life to a pale gray, and she realized he was shivering slightly.

"Oh yeah? How many times have you died before, exactly?" she said, refusing to budge. "David, give me your jacket."

"None," Killian answered, lips quirking. "But then I wasn't dead this time, either."

"Here," David said, shrugging out of his coat and handing it to Emma. He and Regina started ahead, and she slid the sleeves over his arms before he protest, carefully pulling it together in the front.

"And here I always imagined you un– " he winced when she tugged harder than necessary, though the smirk didn't fade. He glanced towards David's back and chuckled hoarsely. "Point taken. Perhaps I'll save that one for another time, then?"

"Let's go," she said, pulling the zipper up to his chin. His fingers brushed her cheek and she froze.

"That lovely blush wouldn't happen to be for me, would it?" His smile was practically tender, the gesture intimate, and while it really wasn't that much compared to everything that happened between them only moments before, Emma's eyes automatically darted away and she stepped back. She couldn't face him like this, not yet. She didn't even know for sure if she was going to survive the spell, and she absolutely could not lose focus. Emma felt something like hesitation now, with him beside her and so obviously in need of healing. The "kiss" apparently only worked with curses, and his injuries had obviously been inflicted with a knife rather than with a wand. She and Regina wouldn't be able to help him, even if the spell went perfectly and they both survived. She couldn't…Emma couldn't face what that kiss meant now.

She looked away when his smile faded into a tight line, and when she tried to lift his arm to go back over her shoulders, he wouldn't let her. "As I said, Swan, I can stand on my own two feet."

"Just let me help – "

"I think you've done all you can for one day," he mumbled, walking ahead of her, brushing passed. "David! Don't suppose you could spare a man a sword? I'm feeling a bit exposed without my hook."

Emma bit back the retort on her tongue, cringing as she followed. She couldn't do this now…she just couldn't…

"Regina – " she started, intending to demand they stop then and there to heal him, before their powers are stripped away, before they could possibly be killed.

She never got the chance.

"Not so fast, my lovelies," a terribly familiar voice chided from behind them. "We're just getting started."


	4. Chapter 4

_Phew, it only took two weeks for my muse to recover from the Jolly Roger episode. Keep in mind, I wrote this story before we learned about Hook's kiss curse and Zelena's plans, so I suppose the rest of this will be slightly AU. There will be one more chapter after this one that wraps things up from Hook's perspective, and I hope to have that one up before the next episode on Sunday. I can't believe it's already almost done, and as always, thanks so much to everyone that reads this, and I hope you enjoy!_

Chapter 4

Emma turned, and Zelena stood just behind them, her golden-red hair and shining emerald standing as colorful contrasts against her black-encased body. She was smiling broadly.

"Oh, I see you managed to rouse the pirate. Perhaps you have a heart after all, little _Savior._ How about I have a little peek for myself," she grinned, moving towards her.

Regina was beside Emma in an instant, Killian and David behind them.

"Well it's about time, Greenie," Regina said, lips turning up and eyes widening manically. She looked genuinely thrilled to see her, even if it was for all the wrong, murderous reasons.

"Rude as ever, dear sister," Zelena replied tightly, "though I gather you've gotten your memories back. Due to the breaking of your sleeping spell, I imagine. Shame. I didn't think that one through well enough…but, oh well. I don't suppose it really matters now."

Emma just barely managed to jump back in time as Zelena suddenly tossed a spell at Regina, the woman beside her just barely managing to deflect it.

"Swan, get down!" she heard Hook yell from behind, and she glanced quickly back. Flying monkeys were now descending from the sky, terrible noises screeching from their razor mouths. She looked up to see that one was headed straight for her, the wind from its wings making her eyes water. She didn't even have enough time to aim her gun before a hand was gripping her wrist and yanking her backwards, onto the ground. A flash of steel deftly sunk into the beast's chest, knocking it into the dirt before David stabbed it through. Hook was laying beside her in the dirt, partially covering her, and she could feel the ragged gasps leaving him as his face twisted.

"Not again – no, what did you do?!" she shouted, hands roaming all over the jacket covering him and searching for new wounds, bite marks, anything –

"Swan, I'm fine. Other than the lingering ill-effects of Zelena's ministrations…"

The vice on her chest eased. "Get up, then!" she shouted, relief not a luxury she could afford, utterly hating the way she still shook. "We have to get under the cover of the trees – David!"

Emma looked up, watching as his sword sunk into another monster, and she then promptly emptied her gun's clip into another one that approached from David's back. The fact that these were likely bitten townspeople wasn't something she could let herself consider. They were trying to kill her, her family, and she couldn't let them.

"Come on," David said, watching their backs as Emma and Killian both stood. "Robin's men are keeping the rest occupied. We need to see if Regina needs help."

Emma looked around the field, noticing for the first time that their back-up had materialized from the woods. Robin's men and other townspeople were shooting arrows into the sky with the likes of longbows and crossbows alike. Skewered monkeys were raining down like fucking feathered meteorites. Regina and Zelena were off to their left, and Gold had finally materialized, misery and anger etched into his weathered face as he waited for orders.

It was now or never. She just had to trust David, had to trust Regina. Everyone would die if she didn't do it. There wasn't any option left, and time was fast running out.

"Regina's fine," she said, loading another clip into her gun, just in case. "You two need to get under the cover of the trees. There's something I have to do first."

"What are you talking about? This isn't the plan – "

"David," Emma cut him off, her eyes flashing between him and Hook. _God she hoped she was strong enough. _"Yes it is. If I don't cast the spell, then we can't separate Gold from the dagger. Belle can't do it by herself."

"Why didn't you say something before?" David asked, his voice sharp and too knowing.

But she didn't have time to stand there and explain. "Please take care of him," she said, nodding towards Hook, her thoughts straying to Henry. "I have to go."

"Swan – "

She started running. She bolted across the field, the sounds of the fight dimming behind her. She thought for a moment that she heard a voice calling her back, and perhaps it was just her imagination when she heard his accent tempering the edges of her name. _God but she hoped she was strong enough._

No one followed her as she weaved her way into the forest, sprinting north to the large oak tree where Belle was supposed to be waiting. Emma was huffing, breath burning in her chest as she pushed herself to run faster. Her legs were on the verge of giving out when the oak and Belle finally came into view.

"Emma!" Belle called, scrambling off her knees as she finally came to a breathless halt under the tree's arcing branches.

"Okay. Tell me what to do," she gasped, bent over double with her hands on her thighs. It looked like a circle had been burned into the ground at the massive trunk's base, two short red candles burning brightly in the center. A dagger with a long, black as night blade lay beside them.

"Wait, Emma," Belle paused, resting a tentative hand on her arm. "I want Zelena gone just as much as the rest of you, maybe more, but are you sure you want to do this? You could die, Regina could die, and I'd never forgive myself if I helped you – "

"Belle," Emma said, straightening. "This isn't just about us. If we don't stop her here and now, countless other people will die. I can't…I won't just let that happen. No matter the consequences."

It wasn't about her. _It was never about her. _This was what she was made for. She was the Savior, a tool against dark magic. It didn't matter beyond that. She was done fighting, done pretending that she could actually have a normal life and be happy. Whatever this did to her, whatever effect the spell would have, it was worth it if it saved the people around her. She was the Savior, hardwired through and through.

"I'm so sorry, Emma," Belle whispered, pulling her into a surprisingly strong embrace. "Whatever I can do to help, I will."

Emma gently disengaged herself, noting the unshed tears in Belle's eyes, and tried to offer a comforting smile. "Tell me what to do first."

Belle explained the parameters of the spell, spoke a few words in a language Emma couldn't even begin to comprehend, and positioned her in a kneeling position just in front of the candles and dagger, in the middle of the circle.

"Okay, here is a vial of Regina's blood," she said, handing Emma the glass tube, "and you'll need to cut yourself with that dagger to draw your own blood. Once you do, drip your blood into one candle's flame while dripping Regina's blood into the other one. Make sure you get it into the fire."

"What about Leo's blood? This won't affect him like it does us, will it?" she asked, a lick of fear suddenly crawling up her heart.

"No, it won't. I used his blood to help create the circle. His purity is what will hold the shadow in our control, but according to the book it doesn't bind him in the way it will bind you and Regina."

Emma took a breath, trying to steady the tremors that were beginning to take hold in her body. She grasped the handle of the dagger, the black blade dull and matte. No light reflected off of it.

"Here goes nothing," Emma sighed, but she paused before dragging the blade over her palm. "Can I…can I ask you to do something for me, please? If this doesn't go a hundred percent the way we want."

Belle nodded, her eyes glistening.

"Tell David, Mary Margaret, Henry…Leo when he's old enough, tell them that I love them, and I'm sorry, but I don't regret it. Tell them it was my choice, and I'd make the same one a thousand times over if it meant that they'd be safe. Tell them…tell them to be _happy_."

"I will," she said, and Emma could hear the effort she put into keeping her voice steady.

"And, tell Hook – Killian – tell Killian that I love…that he…" Emma couldn't find the words, even now. She more than loved him. He was everything. He'd become her world, her lifeline, her strength. She fought back the tears and cleared her throat. "Tell Killian that he needs to be happy, too. Tell him to smile more, and to be there for Henry. He can't give up, because he has to take care of him. He has to stay good, because Henry needs him. Okay?"

"I swear," Belle said. Emma nodded, fighting to steady her hand.

"Okay then." She straightened her back, and braced for the pain as she swept the sharp blade over her skin, over the old scar from the beanstalk. She clenched her fist as blood quickly welled in her palm, and readied the vial of Regina's blood. With shaking arms, she held her hands over the twin flames, and let the blood flow. The fire danced as the dark blood pattered down.

Emma pulled back when Regina's vial was empty. They waited. Belle's fists were clenched tightly as she kneeled just on the outer rim of the circle, and Emma took the bandana from her pocket and wrapped it around her hand tightly, staunching the flow.

She took one breath, two, three, and the flame began to burn brighter, taller. She backed away when the fire rocketed up towards the sky, casting a black, opaque shadow on the oak tree's trunk. Emma scrambled out of the circle as the shadow began to move, and then bleed together into a humanoid shape. Belle stood beside her as the flames slowly retreated, and the shadow remained.

In a gust of white-hot wind, Emma's hair blew wildly out behind her as the shadow floated just in front of her face, its black hands groping for her bandaged hand. In a sudden blast of intense, searing pain, Emma screamed and watched in open fear as the shadow enveloped her hand, burned her hand until her legs failed and crumpled beneath her. The next thing she was aware of was Belle gripping at her shoulder, shaking her gently.

"Was…was that it?" she asked, the pain abating. She drew her hand up to inspect it, and saw that the bandana was completely gone, a black circle of charred flesh stamped over the wound.

"Emma, it was only marking you. It was marking you so that when it's done, it can exact payment. It'll do the same to Regina."

Fuck. This was really happening. It was done. _She was done. She'd saved them, all of them._

"I want to see them," she suddenly said. "I want to see them kill Zelena." Emma packed a handful of snow over the still burning wound. "We need to get back."

Together, they ran towards the clearing, listening for the sounds of battle, and after a moment a high-pitched, chilling scream sent birds flapping to the sky above them.

"What in the world…"

"It was Zelena," Emma said, a thrill sending chills across her skin. "We have to hurry."

After a moment, the trees thinned enough so that the clearing was open before them, and the first thing Emma saw was a twisted, writhing body suspended in mid-air.

Regina and Gold stood below, their hands outstretched towards it. Emma's gut clenched when she realized what they were doing as Zelena's limbs stretched so far away from her body. Too far…

"Belle, you probably don't want to watch this," Emma said, quickly turning to her as the realization hit. "Gold wouldn't want you to…"

"No," Belle shook her head, nearly transparent irises rimming her thick, black pupils. "I won't shy away from who he is. I helped make this possible, after all. I knew he'd kill her. I want him to."

"But like this?"

Emma wanted to flinch away, her insides convulsing horribly. She didn't want the last thing she ever saw to be Zelena's body ripping apart, and yet this was her doing, as well. Emma had never been a coward in all her life, and she wouldn't be one now. She had to make sure that they had been successful, that this was all worth it. She had to know that they would all finally be safe.

With sickening, wet, popping, crunching sounds, Regina and Gold finally managed to achieve their combined goal, and the screams stopped.

"You know what to do with the pieces?" Emma heard Regina ask, and she saw Gold nod.

"What…" Emma started, and found her throat filled with bile. "Do you know…?"

"They have to spread her body parts in seven different running rivers. It's the only way to guarantee that her death is final," Belle answered, her voice eerily flat. "I remember from before. We discovered that in the missing year."

"Oh."

"Emma! Belle!"

David was calling to them, and Emma quickly tore her gaze from the nightmarish sight. He was jogging towards them, and Killian was limping along beside him. The breath left her chest in a rush, the relief immeasurable and _freeing._ She swallowed back the bile and felt her muscles unclench. It was okay. Everything was okay now. Even as she felt the brand on her palm begin to burn anew, she couldn't help the smile that spread her lips. God she didn't want to leave them. She wanted to run towards them, to tell Killian and David that she loved them, that she was so goddamned sorry –

But her time was up.

Regina was facing her now, her eyes wide and afraid as she focused on something behind her. Gold was the picture of stoicism, even as Belle ran towards him. He inclined his head once towards Emma, before lowering his eyes. David and Killian pulled up short, and the looks on their faces just hurt too much, so she closed her eyes.

"No!" she heard Killian scream, his voice cracking and broken. She hated that this was going to hurt him, after everything he'd been through, everything he'd endured for _her. _She didn't want him to be alone again, she wanted him to be happy and laughing and smiling and not screaming her name like that. Her eyes were burning almost as much as her hand now, but she didn't care. Emma couldn't feel a thing except for the way her heart beat, pounded for him…

That is, of course, until the shadow finally forced itself under her skin and set her entire existence ablaze. She abruptly felt it merge with her body, and it was like she was exploding from the inside, out. It was ripping her life away, her essence. Everything she was, everything that made up Emma Swan was leaking into the inky blackness, pouring out of her. She couldn't feel her heart pounding anymore, she couldn't feel the ground beneath her, she couldn't feel her body. There was only fire, a sucking abyss, and a dimming light. She was weightless, nothing. The light dimmed and dimmed, like a candle at the end of its wick.

Something was roaring in her ears, and if she had a body she would have tried to turn away. It was an awful sound, something that seemed to cut her even deeper than the flaming pain. It was wrong, so damned wrong. Nothing should ever sound like that, he should never ever sound like that…

_Killian. _

The sound eventually quieted until it was only a gentle breeze against her cheek, something soft and fluttering. _ "Emma, Emma, Emma."_

It was still wrong, it still hurt, and she wanted to fix it. She _needed _to fix it. He needed her.

Finally, as the light flickered out, and there was nothing but smoke filtering through the fingers of her grasping consciousness, Emma felt the pain leave her.

Her eyes opened, seeking something beyond the darkness. She felt heavy and cold and _aching,_ but her heart was beating again, and she could feel the thrum of life in her veins. It was a moment before she realized that something was wrapped around her, something strong and shaking.

"I'm okay," she whispered, bemused at the way her throat burned around the simple phrase. The shaking stopped.

"Emma?" Killian shifted her away from his chest, and she was met with the most perfect sight. His eyes were bright, and while his face was slack at first, it only took a moment before the worry lines eased and his lips parted in surprise.

"Sorry about that," she whispered, reaching a hand upwards to anchor in his hair. She pulled him down until she felt his lips and breath merge with hers, soft and warm and yes, still alive. Both of them.

His arms tightened, holding her against him as he kissed her softly back. Emma still wanted more, though. She needed him to hold her closer, kiss her harder, but she realized with a pang that he was holding back. When she tried to slip her tongue beyond his lips, he began to pull away. Frustrated, she gripped his hair harder, _because damnit they were both alive!_ Against all odds, after two near-death experiences, they were finally here and alive, the witch in pieces…

"Emma…" he said, his hand forcing her shoulder back. He winced with the effort, and Emma remembered that he was still hurt, that he needed a hospital and Regina…

"Oh God, I'm sorry. Killian – "

David's arms replaced Killian's before she could process that she was being handed off, and he nearly squeezed the breath out of her. "We thought you were gone, Emma. Why didn't you tell us? Why?"

He was silent after that, though, not prompting her any further for an answer. It only took her a moment longer for her to register his tension, to realize that something was still very wrong.

"David…" she asked, turning her head to see where Regina had been standing. "Is Regina okay? What happened?"

He didn't answer, and it was then that Emma saw the group of Robin's men huddled about something in the distance, each one on a knee with their hat clutched in their hands.

"No…" she said, the word painfully weak. "She couldn't have…she said she thought she had a good chance of…"

"She knew from the start that she wouldn't survive," Gold said from above her, his voice low and...sad.

"No. No, that's impossible. She said she would come back for Henry. I believed her. She wasn't lying, damnit. She said she had a good chance – "

"She did," Gold agreed, "but it wasn't good enough. I imagine she was being truthful when she said she wouldn't leave him, though. She just won't be there in a physical sense. Regina gave up her life to save him, and the rest of us. She will never be forgotten."

"No, just stop," she said, the waver leaving her voice. "I'm not about to sit here and listen to funeral eulogies when we don't even know that she's really dead." Emma tried to stand, found that her legs were less than reliable, so David braced her from behind. She managed it after a moment, and he didn't try to stop her when she walked forward, didn't complain when she made him make a path through Robin's men.

Emma knelt beside Regina, touched her fingers to her neck to search for a pulse, and found nothing. Her dark eyes were open, focused to the sky as snow began to fall softly, landing on her black lashes and white skin. The flakes didn't melt.

"What about true love's kiss? We just need to get her to Robin, right?" Emma said, even though the momentary hope began to fade as Regina's eyes remained wide, large, and unblinking. "I mean, this is like a curse, isn't it? Henry could do it too. Can't they just – "

"I imagine Robin will want to try, and even Henry, but I think we need to accept the fact that Regina –"

David couldn't finish, and Emma screwed her eyes shut, the ache in her bones and skin and chest pulsing and growing. She needed to switch gears, to think about something else. There was still so much more to worry about, and all she wanted to do was curl up and process what was happening, what this meant for her and Henry, the grief that was edging in on her composure. She motioned for David to help her stand again, and she turned away. Killian stood just beyond, and the way his eyes avoided hers made the ache in her chest swell. She closed her eyes again.

"Killian needs a doctor," she said to David, "and I can't heal him like this. Regina can't – "

The words caught. She took a breath, and tried a different sentence. "There are injured people we can help now. We have to get the hospital back up and running. That's our number one priority."

"I agree," David said, nodding beside her. "And you and Killian are patients number one and two. Robin's men will take care of Regina."

"As will I," Gold said, and Emma opened her eyes to see him kneeling beside Regina now, hand moving over her eyelids as he pressed them shut. "It's not escaped me that I have you and her to thank for my freedom. My debt will be paid in whatever way I'm capable. I'll see to it that Regina is properly cared for."

Emma simply nodded, too damn exhausted to summon up any argument. She was tired of making decisions, sick to death of everything. This wasn't the victory she'd wanted. She couldn't understand why everything was still so fucking messed up, why she wasn't allowed to just enjoy that her job was done and everyone was safe. They'd beaten the witch, they'd saved a whole goddamned town, and yet the moment of peace she'd felt when she knew Zelena was gone had lasted only _seconds_.

When David scooped her into his arms, she held on with everything she had as he began walking away, the battered group following behind them, Killian's steps uneven at her side.


End file.
